Beads
by ShadowsTakeAll
Summary: A trip to the museum ends in disaster when, one by one, the girls fall into A's trap. But with a bit of quick thinking and a lot of luck, they might be able to make it out alive - well, some of them, anyway. [NOW COMPLETE.]
1. Prologue

**Hey guys. It's been a long time since I've dipped my toes into the waters of PLL fics, but here I am. I actually wrote this story quite a while ago, just never got around to it. Apologies to anyone who's waiting on my other PLL stories (Iridescence and C'est la guerre) - they will be continued, I'm just not sure when. Anyway. This is set before the current season, possibly before the season before that depending on how you interpret it. So basically the girls don't know who A is, or if Ali's alive, or etc etc. Usual warnings for me: potential character death, blood and violence, etc. This first chapter isn't really a chapter at all, it's just a tiny teaser/prologue. There'll be five chapters following this, and they'll each be a normal size. This is just to give you a taste. So read, review, and I'll see you next time.**

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_"Shh."_

_The whisper carries across the dark room, as if the shadows have picked it up and passed it around. And the shadows whisper it back, so that the speaker snaps her mouth shut and slips through the curtained doorway, realizing her blunder._

_"You're the one being loud," her companion mutters as she follows her into the next room, one strung with lights that flicker on with the push of a button, sending shadows fleeing to the corners and causing patterns to dance along the walls._

_"I know." This said with a slight edge to it, a reminder that now is no time to be arguing. They have a job to do._

_"Here," the second girl says, crouching down by one of the corners and opening a black bag. She searches through it for a moment, choosing her objects carefully. "Are you sure this is going to work?" she asks, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear._

_"Yes," the other replies tersely. She pulls her black beanie lower over her head, looking around warily. She's reasonably sure they're alone, but it never hurts to be careful. "This time we're going to take those bitches down."_

_They divide the objects amongst themselves, and then the dark-haired girl flicks the lights off. As the room falls into darkness again the silence seems even more pronounced, until the girls begin to talk, in voices so soft that the word 'whisper' seems inadequate._

_Finally, satisfied that their plan is going to work, they give each other a reassuring smile and then go their separate ways._

_The plan has begun._

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**Intrigued? Let me know you're interested and I'll have the next chapter up soon.**


	2. Aria

**Hey all. Thanks for the reviews. Here's the first proper chapter, which I hope you enjoy. Warnings for the rest of this story: violence, potential character death, blood, etc. Be prepared. And off we go...**

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"… and that's when they first really came around to the idea of evolution."

Aria stops examining her nails and looks up at the screen, hoping that the educational clip has finally finished. But the middle-aged man with the uneven moustache and the lopsided glasses is still talking. With a barely audible sigh she turns her attention downwards again, carefully flicking a flake of lime-green nail polish off her thumb.

"Hey," Spencer mutters, nudging Aria in the ribs. "Are you even paying attention?"

Aria shares an unamused look with Hanna, while Emily, supportive friend that she is, keeps her eyes fixed on the screen. "Spence, we've been here for five hours. Can we please just go now?"

"But he's only just starting to talk about how the Linnaean system of taxonomy -" Spencer starts, her eyes animated.

Hanna interrupts her with a yawn. "That's great and all, but I'm with Aria. We've been here for _ages_."

Spencer sighs and folds her arms. Outnumbered, she gives up. "Fine," she says, getting to her feet and leading the way out of the small viewing room. "But you guys agreed to come here. The least you could do is pretend to be interested."

"We have been," Hanna protests. "For five hours. Even Aria isn't that good an actor."

"Hey," Aria says, mock-offended. "For the last time, I'm not the best liar out of the four of us -"

"Whatever." Spencer turns to Emily. "You enjoyed it, right? The video about Darwin?"

Emily's blank look is enough to tell the others that she wasn't even aware that's what the video was about.

"You weren't paying attention either, were you?" Hanna asks teasingly. "What were you doing instead? Daydreaming about Paige?"

"No," Emily says defensively, and the others laugh at her.

Aria leans against a pillar that's painted to look like an Egyptian pyramid and watches as Spencer pulls out a map of the museum. It had seemed like a fun idea at first, a weekend trip to the museum, but all of the girls, aside from the Queen Nerd herself, are bored. It would be different if it were an art gallery, but the museum is all about science and technology and other things too cold and complicated for Aria to care about.

"There's an exhibition on Marie Curie down on Level One," Spencer says, tracing the path on the map with her finger. "Can we just swing by that on our way to the entrance? It won't be too long."

With an exaggerated sigh, Aria shares a look with her friends. Hanna gives a resigned shrug, and Emily says, "Sure. As long as we're quick."

"Great!" Spencer's eyes light up and she shoves the map back into her pocket. "Let's go."

Aria pushes herself off the pillar and hurries after her friends as they make their way to the elevator. The museum is meant to be closing in under twenty minutes, so when they get to Level One most of the other patrons are slowly trickling out the door in ones and twos, discussing their plans for dinner and marvelling over the replica sarcophaguses they bought in the gift shop. Dodging around an elderly woman shepherding a group of rowdy kids, Aria loses sight of her friends for a moment as they turn the corner.

The Marie Curie exhibit is near the end of the hall, so Aria just continues on her way, figuring she'll reach it only a minute after her friends do. But when she turns the corner the hall in front of her is empty. Quelling a flicker of unease, she takes a step forward, but her attention is quickly caught by a shadow off to her left.

Against her better judgment, curiosity wins out against caution. With one last look down the hall, toward where the exhibit is, she darts off after the shadow. It disappears around a room bearing a sign that says Special Exhibit, and when Aria rounds it, she sees something even more alarming than a shadow: the tail of a red coat, flicking out of sight down another corridor.

Her heart in her throat, Aria breaks into a run, following the shadow and the red coat, toward something she knows can't be good. But she has to know for sure what it is. In her haste she doesn't even think to call her friends, even though her phone is nestled snugly in her pocket. Partway down the corridor the person in the red coat is standing, as if they're waiting for her. Then the person dashes off, into a room off to the side.

Without thinking Aria follows. The door opens easily, revealing a small room with nothing in it. The dim light is barely enough to see by, but it's sufficient to show that there's nobody else here. Red Coat is gone.

With rising panic Aria turns back to the door, only to find it closed. Even when she slams her shoulder against it, putting her full force behind it, the door doesn't budge.

"Hello?" she calls out. "Can anyone hear me?"

As if in response to her words, a slight hissing sound starts up from the far corner. Her eyes widen in fear, but something compels her to investigate. She notices a door on the other side of the room, but that's as firmly locked as the other one. Turning her attention to the hissing sound, she crouches down and examines the corner. It takes a moment to figure it out, but when she does she scrambles away from it, already feeling light-headed. The gas leaking from the corner seems to wrap around her, making it hard to breathe.

Almost as soon as she figures it out, a thin red line shoots out from the ceiling, stretching from one corner to the one opposite. Before Aria can react, around ten more of the lights start up. They hover there for a moment, and then the lasers start to move, crossing over each other as they sway crazily around the room.

There's a distant shout from outside, but Aria is too panicked to register it properly. She backs away, trying to dodge the lights in case they're actual lasers, capable of cutting through flesh. Despite her best efforts one of the light skims across her hand, and she closes her eyes, bracing herself for searing pain. It doesn't come, and she tentatively opens her eyes. So the lights are just for show; but the gas quickly filling up the room is clearly a real danger, judging by how dizzy she feels.

She stumbles across the room, the lights flashing across her like a deadly disco, until she's as far away from the corner as she can be. "Hello?" she calls again, but her voice sounds weak even to her ears. Desperately she starts pounding at the door, hoping someone will hear her, but rapidly realizing that nobody will come. There's a bright flash of light, blinding her for a moment, but she just keeps pounding on the door.

She keeps at it for as long as she can, but it's not long before the gas has seeped into her lungs and caused her vision to blur. She slumps against the wall, trying to stop a terrified sob from escaping her lips. Her panic subsides for a split second, and in that moment she remembers that she has her cell phone on her.

With fumbling fingers she pulls it out, but it slips from her hands before she can dial. As she slides down the wall, her legs unable to support her anymore, she hears a muffled cry from outside, and then a more distant thud, like a door being slammed. Once she's seated, her back against the wall like it's the only thing keeping her conscious, she reaches for her phone, but by now her vision is swimming in dizzying circles and she can't even see what she's reaching for.

"Oh god," she manages to murmur as she slumps sideways, the lights still playing over her and her mind heavy with the knowledge that this is it.

She closes her eyes as she lets out a sob that turns into a cough, knowing that she can't hold on much longer. She wonders where Red Coat went, and where her friends are, and then she feels the world give way around her. It takes her a second to realize that someone's opened the door, and then she feels hands lifting her up and dragging her out.

_It's too late,_ she thinks as the hands lay her gently on the floor. The ground still feels like it's spinning beneath her, but slower now, like it's telling her she doesn't have much time left. She can't open her eyes, even though she tries to, and her mouth can't even form a single word. She feels the same hands turn her over, feel her pulse, shake her shoulder.

"I think she's dead," says a voice from light years above her, and it's the last thing she hears before she slips away.

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	3. Spencer

**Pretend this is a witty AN.**

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By the time they reach the Marie Curie exhibit, they're the only ones left in the entire museum. Spencer goes straight to the information signs, eager to absorb any knowledge she can before the museum closes. Hanna leans against the closest wall, filing her nails and every now and then giving Spencer a very pointed look to make it clear how much she wishes they could leave. Emily, meanwhile, looks uneasily around the room.

"Why aren't there any security guards?" she asks worriedly.

"Hmm?" Spencer looks up from the sign, sees that none of them are in any danger, and turns her attention back to it. Since this whole A mess started she's barely been able to keep up with schoolwork, let alone had any time for non-curricular learning; so this whole day is a rare treat for her.

"The museum's about to close," Emily points out, "but there's nobody here telling us to leave. I didn't even hear an announcement."

As if on cue, an announcement crackles over the PA system. _"Attention, this museum is about to close. Please proceed to the nearest exit. Thank you for visiting, and we hope you enjoyed your day!"_

"There you go," Spencer says reassuringly, not looking up.

"Spence," Hanna says, "that means we need to leave."

"Mhm." Spencer holds up a finger to signal that she'll be with them in a minute, and the others share an amused look. "Done," she announces a moment later, tearing her eyes away from the sign. She takes in the sight of Emily and Hanna, and then frowns. "Where's Aria?"

Hanna whirls around, as if she's expecting Aria to sneak up behind her. "She's not here?"

"I thought she just went to the bathroom," Emily mumbles. "But she should be back now."

Anxiety tugs at Spencer's heart. Being separated is never a good thing, even if they're somewhere as seemingly innocuous as the museum. "Aria?" she calls out, beginning to retrace their steps. The other two girls fall into step behind her, on alert at once. "Aria!" she calls more loudly. "Aria!"

There's no response, and in the silence a thousand horrible thoughts fill Spencer's mind. She tries to push them away, but before she can even start trying to fool herself into thinking there's nothing to worry about, there's a sudden burst of noise: three phones going off simultaneously. That can only mean one thing.

Sharing an uneasy look with the others, Spencer pulls out her phone. It's a picture message, and when she opens it she doesn't realize what it is. Then it falls into place, and she claps a hand over her mouth. Aria is trapped in a small room, banging at the door, and it looks like she's about to pass out. The message below the picture reads: _Follow my instructions or she won't make it out alive. –A_

"What instructions?" Hanna asks, and a second later she gets her answer. Their phones go off again, but this time one by one, like they're getting individual messages.

"It's a location," Spencer says, looking at her message.

"Mine too," Hanna says. "I'm meant to go to that fashion exhibit down the other end of the hall."

"The light and electricity hall," Spencer says, reading her own message and feeling her heart sink.

"Flight simulator," Emily adds.

Spencer lets out a low whistle. "So A is trying to split us up," she says slowly. "Clever."

"And they already have Aria," Emily reminds them. She snaps her phone closed and shoves it in her pocket with more force than is necessary, even though the worry makes her hands shake.

"So what do we do?" Hanna asks.

They turn to Spencer, who is normally the one to make the decisions. She looks at both of them, then back down at her message, and sighs. Aria probably doesn't have much time left, so she doesn't have time to weigh all the options and come up with alternatives. She needs to make a decision _now_. "We play along," she says reluctantly. "Keep your eyes open, keep in contact, and if you're in any danger, get the hell out of there."

"So what are you thinking?" Emily asks, clearly displeased with the plan but grateful she wasn't the one who had to make the call. "If we go along with it, A will just mess with us for a bit and let us go?"

"Maybe not let us go," Spencer says cautiously, "but we might be able to get away. And then we can save Aria."

"If it's not too late," Hanna says grimly, and the others don't argue.

Spencer takes a deep breath, thinking that this moment needs some kind of inspirational speech or heartfelt temporary goodbye, but her mind draws a blank. Instead she just meets Emily's eyes and then Hanna's, and says, "Good luck."

"You too," Hanna says, and Emily nods.

Without another word Spencer spins on her heel and walks off, her heart pounding against her chest like a sledgehammer. The room she's heading for isn't too far away, but she starts to wish it were; the walk, as agonizing as it is, must be better than what will happen once she arrives at her destination.

All too soon the lights and electricity exhibit looms into view. Somehow the overhead lights are still on – A's doing, no doubt. She wonders how A got rid of the security guards, and then realizes she doesn't want to know. "Is anyone here?" she says tentatively, coming to a stop in front of the door. She's not expecting an answer, and she doesn't receive one – but she does notice that the door is slightly ajar.

Knowing that she's walking into a trap, but unable to do anything to prevent it, Spencer nudges the door open and peers inside. There's a flash of movement over the other side of the room, like the tail of a red coat whipping out of sight. Without thinking she moves forward, but she's barely taken a step when the door slams closed behind her with a loud thud. Torn between trying the door and following Red Coat, she goes for the latter after only a brief hesitation.

Halfway across the room there's a blinding flash of light, and she stands for a moment, covering her eyes and trying to stop herself from feeling dizzy. When the light subsides she looks around, half-expecting someone to have snuck up on her. But there's no one else here, and somehow that's both comforting and terrifying. She spins around, taking in the entire room, and then she sees what's behind her.

It's her shadow, trapped on the wall. She's seen this before, and she understands the mechanics of it, but in that moment none of that matters. All she knows is that the sight of it makes her heart try to leap out of her throat and scurry away. Sternly reminding herself why she's doing this – Aria's in danger, after all – she slowly walks across the room, heading for the door on the other side; the door through which Red Coat must have left.

When she pushes it open she's expecting an ambush, but it doesn't happen. What does happen, however, is that the second she's inside this newest room, the door behind her closes, and she hears the click of a lock.

Cursing herself for her stupidity, she tries the handle and then shoves her shoulder against the door, but it doesn't move. Before she has time to get herself into a real state of panic, there's a crackling noise. Spencer retreats to one of the corners, trying to control her breathing. This room is smaller than the other one, almost claustrophobically small, and the sensation of being unable to breathe, despite the apparently sufficient supply of oxygen, grows.

"You have thirty seconds to make your decision," a voice says over the PA system, but for half a second she swears it's from someone standing right behind her. "You have two choices: turn against your friends and help us… or die. Your time starts now."

As the voice dies away a beeping starts, every second to let her know how quickly time is passing. Her mind works frantically, trying to find a way out of this. When there's fifteen seconds left, she's effectively decided that it's hopeless. By the time it hits ten seconds to go, she's made her decision, and is already shaking her head to show her intent. "I won't do it," she says aloud, knowing they can hear her. "I won't turn against my friends."

"It's your funeral," the PA voice says casually, with a hint of laughter, and for a second Spencer thinks it sounds familiar.

Before she can puzzle it out, the door opens and then quickly closes, admitting a small, shadowy shape. She struggles to keep track of it in the dim light, and she misjudges the distance, thinking it's still a foot away – and then she feels it ram into her. She lets out a startled cry as the figure slams her into the wall and her head collides with the uneven railing that runs around the room.

There's barely enough time to register surprise before the impact makes her feel faint, and she starts sliding to the floor. The figure shoves her against the wall again, just to be sure, and Spencer collapses to the ground, blood dribbling from her head and forming a pool beneath her. The figure nudges her with their foot, but she doesn't notice. She's already gone.

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**Read, review, etc.**


	4. Emily

**Exams and NaNo are both over, so I finally have time to breathe (and update) again. Yay! Anyway. Enjoy the chapter!**

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The museum is eerily quiet. It hadn't seemed quite so ominous when they were together in a group – even though 'safety in numbers' has never really worked for them – but now that Emily is alone she can't stop her thoughts from running away with her. Every shadow is an attacker, every creak a footstep, every information sign a warning of her impending doom. Halfway down the hall, when the others are out of sight, she pauses. _Don't be scared,_ she tells herself, but her heart doesn't listen. She leans against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself and trying to slow her breathing.

The thought of A splitting them up makes her very uneasy. The most logical explanation for A's desire to get them on their own is so that he, she, or whoever it is, can go after them one by one. Pick the weaker ones off first, work their way through until there's no one left. And isn't she the weakest of them all? A has told her that before, so it would make sense that she would be the first target.

Maybe she can still get out of here. She can find an exit somewhere, force the door open, and flee into the descending darkness. But she could never leave her friends behind. Maybe she can go back and find them, catch up with Spencer or Hanna and go through this together. But doing so would definitely get them on A's radar, and potentially put Aria in even more danger than she's already in.

Swallowing nervously, Emily forces her feet to start moving, one slow step after another, down the hall. It never ceases to surprise her how quickly things can change. One minute she and her friends are enjoying – or at least putting up with – a day at the museum, and the next they're being split up and probably hunted down. One minute they're a group of five happy girls, trying to make the most out of their school year, and then they're mourning their friend and trying not to let their obsessive stalker get the better of them.

Wishing her friends were still here, Emily reaches the flight simulator. It looks like the cockpit of an airplane, complete with some not-so-subtle advertising in the form of a logo shooting down the side. There are a few steps leading up to it, and a sign at the bottom explaining how it works. Emily stands beside this, looking around. A minute passes, and then a message beeps through on her phone. _What are you waiting for? –A_

She shoves her phone back into her pocket, takes a deep breath, and then makes her way slowly up the steps. Of course A would want to keep her in a confined space, somewhere from which there would be no escape. The door to the cockpit is open, so after only a brief hesitation Emily steps through. A light flickers on overhead, and she has a feeling it's not motion-sensor; someone is watching her.

She takes another step, and the door swings closed behind her. Despite the fact that she'd anticipated this, it still sends a shiver down her spine and an involuntary shriek slips through her lips. She's right where A wants her, and she doesn't like her chances of getting away. She stumbles back until she's leaning against the door, even though a quick check is all it takes to ascertain that it's firmly locked.

The room she's in is small; definitely not a full-scale replica. It's big enough for five, maybe six people to stand in it. There's a door that would lead to the back of the plane, if there were one, and Emily rushes over to it. She's disappointed yet unsurprised that it's locked too. She turns her attention to the front, more out of morbid curiosity than any real expectations of finding anything useful.

The front 'windows' are actually screens, at the moment showing a runway stretching out before the plane. There are two chairs, and Emily sinks down gently into one of them, half-expecting shackles to shoot out and bind her to it. She relaxes slightly when none do, but the situation still looks grim. Just as she's starting to wonder if A's methods are merely to use suspense to torture her, the lights brighten and she feels a shudder go through the plane.

Her hands wrap tighter around the arms of the seat as dread washes over her. There are a number of brightly colored and clearly labelled controls below the windows, but after flicking a couple of switches and spinning something that looks like a joystick, she realizes that A is probably controlling the whole thing remotely. There's nothing she can do but sit back and try to stay alive.

The shuddering grows more insistent and a dull roar starts up, coming through speakers on either side of the cockpit. Looking ahead, the runway starts to move, simulating the plane starting to taxi down it. Even in her terror Emily manages a moment to feel impressed at how realistic it is. The runway keeps slipping away beneath her, and the roar becomes louder. Then the plane tilts up as if it's taking off and Emily feels her stomach fall away.

For the next few minutes the plane keeps tilting up and the runway disappears from sight, being replaced by rolling green fields dotted by sprawling country houses. The plane finally levels itself, but does nothing to settle Emily's stomach. The scenery is realistic, but they've done nothing to suggest the effect of altitude; so it's fear rather than motion sickness that's making her feel this way.

Just when it looks like it's starting to settle down, the plane banks sharply, almost throwing Emily from her seat. She grips the seat more tightly and has to remind herself to breathe. She tries closing her eyes, but that just makes it worse, so she opens them again and looks out the window. It appears that she's flying over mountains now, and she becomes dimly aware of a quiet voice coming from the back of the room.

"… _we are now flying over the Rocky Mountains, and if you'll look to your left you'll notice_…"

She tunes it out and focuses on what's in front of her. A particularly tall mountain looms in front of her, and she's caught off-guard when the plane dips suddenly, heading straight for the peak. A new voice starts from a speaker under the chair beside her, drowning out the voice coming from the back.

"_Collision imminent. Please readjust course_."

Forgetting for a second that the plane isn't real and therefore she can't be hurt by a crash, Emily leans forward and starts pressing any button she can reach. None of them have any effect, but a red warning light suddenly lights up above her head and the voice says, "_Please refer to route information and readjust course accordingly._"

"I wish I could!" she exclaims in exasperation, slamming her fist against the nearest button.

The plane veers away from the mountain at the last second and the warning light fades away, but before Emily can even breathe a sigh of relief the light snaps back on and the plane bucks from side to side, causing her stomach to lurch violently.

"_We're experiencing some turbulence_," the voice says calmly. "_Please remain seated and await further instructions_."

"Like I have a choice," Emily mutters, willing herself not to be sick as the plane continues to jerk from side to side and tilt back and forward as if it's trying to throw her out the window.

"_We appear to be experiencing some technical difficulties_," the voice says, a little less calmly. _"Please find the nearest exit and proceed out in an orderly manner."_

Emily lets out a frustrated groan; if only it were that easy to leave. She goes back to closing her eyes and gripping the seat so tightly her knuckles turn white. She runs through every prayer she can think of, but she knows it's useless. If there's anyone out there, they're definitely not listening.

Finally, after what feels like longer than it took for her to fly to Texas to see her dad last summer, the plane shudders to a stop. She opens her eyes and tentatively looks around. The simulation hasn't completed; it's been cut off. The light's flickering wildly and the front 'window' is black. Whoever's pulling the strings has evidently decided it's time to bring things to a close.

Feeling both relieved and terrified, Emily staggers to her feet. No sooner has she done this than the back door flies open and a black-hooded figure strides in, confident and purposeful. Without wasting a second the figure walks up to her, wraps their hands around her throat, and shoves her against the nearest wall.

"N-no," she protests as she feels the fingers tighten around her throat. She can't see the person's face; they keep their head low, not saying a word as they slowly choke her. "Please stop," she begs, her voice barely a whisper.

The figure pays no mind to her, and in under a minute she can feel her life force draining away. Despite her struggles and protests she doesn't even manage to slow the figure down. Stars explode in front of Emily's eyes and her knees start sagging, but the hands around her throat don't even falter as she slides down the wall, struggling to hold onto consciousness. As it slips away she knows with horrible certainty that this is the end, and that's her very last thought before she hits the ground. The hold around her throat doesn't let up for another thirty seconds, and then, satisfied, the figure straightens up and strides out the door, not bothering to look back. They have more important things to do.

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	5. Hanna

**This seemed like a good idea at the time. I don't know.**

**Shoutout to fellow NaNoer keepitsmpll, for both the review and for attempting the craziness that is November.  
**

**Anyway. Enjoy the chapter, all.**

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No goodbyes, no regrets. That's what's going through Hanna's mind as she walks cautiously down the hall. She's not sure what she's scared of; it's not like there are security guards to tell her off, and if A wants to attack her then vigilance isn't going to save her. Still, her eyes dart left and right as she makes her way down the hall. The fashion exhibit isn't too far away, but it feels like a lifetime. For someone who doesn't like museums at the best of times, being here after dark is torture.

She's almost halfway there when she hears a 'Psst' from behind a marble statue, and a slim figure darts out. Before Hanna can be alarmed she recognizes them. "Shouldn't you be up the other end?" Hanna asks, raising her eyebrows. "I thought you were going to be taking care of Spencer."

"And I will," Mona replies. "I just thought you might need this."

At that she holds out a small backpack, and Hanna reaches into it, pulling out a pair of plain black pants and a black hoodie. She looks up at Mona, confused. "Why would I need this?"

"So you can carry out your mission?" Mona answers, confused by her confusion.

Tucking the clothes back into the bag, Hanna swings it over her shoulder and looks at her friend again. "I just thought I was going to stay, you know, plain clothes and all," she says. "Undercover, remember?"

"That was the plan, yes," Mona says lazily, "but our ever-gracious leader has decided that we should all be in uniform for this one."

Hanna thinks about arguing, but they're running on a strict deadline. "Fine," she says, but Mona doesn't move. "Are you going now?"

"Yeah," Mona says after a slight pause, just long enough to indicate that there's something unfinished. "Good luck."

When Hanna is alone again she quickly ducks into the nearest bathroom stall – out of habit more than necessity, because she knows who's here and where they are. Spencer, in the light exhibit, where Mona is heading; Emily, in the flight simulator, where Red Coat will be; and Aria, in the laser room, which is where Hanna needs to go. She glances at her watch and realizes she needs to hurry up, so she shoves her old clothes into the backpack and leaves it on the floor. There'll be time to get it later.

Now clad in her black hoodie, Hanna makes her way out of the bathroom and hurries down the stall. Her part of the plan is small; it's probably because Mona doesn't trust her, but she wasn't going to push it. She doesn't want to play a bigger part in this. Hers is enough as it is. She hurries to the laser room, but she's still a distance away when she can hear sounds from inside.

Someone banging on the door, getting weaker by the second. The sound tears at her heart, but she needs to go along with the plan. She has to do this. She comes to a stop by the door, leaning against it as Aria keeps banging on the other side. She closes her eyes, waiting for the sounds to fade. They finally do, but it seems to take forever, longer than her heart can stand. Finally the sound subside, and she opens the door.

Aria is slumped against the wall, not quite unconscious but not far off. Hanna pulls her out, laying her down gently on the ground, and then looks at the damage she's caused. Being on the A-Team had been a last resort, her last chance to save her friends, and yet here they are. She couldn't stop it.

While she's still looking at Aria's limp body she feels someone come up behind her. Bending down, Hanna rolls Aria over, so that she's on her back. She'd be looking at the ceiling, if her eyes hadn't already closed. Hanna shakes her shoulder, searches her face for a reaction. When there's nothing she places two fingers against Aria's wrist, feeling for a pulse. She closes her eyes for half a second, concentrating, and then shakes her head.

"I think she's dead," she says, the words scraping her throat, and then she turns around.

Red Coat is gone. Aria is dead. Hanna is lost.

Scrambling to her feet, Hanna leaves Aria where she is and dashes after Red Coat – or at least in the direction Red Coat should have been going. There are ominous sounds from the light room, so Hanna takes a detour. By the time she gets there, Mona is already gone, her job accomplished. Spencer is lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading around her head. Hanna stares at her for a moment, horror building in her, and then hurries on when she hears a shout.

It's the same story at the flight simulator. Emily is lying at the base of the stairs, deathly still, nobody around. Hanna wants to stop, to tend to each of her friends and see if they're okay, but she can't. There's no time. She hurries around the flight simulator, up the stairs to the next level, and finds what she's looking for.

"What the hell?" Hanna bursts out.

Mona, leaning against the railing and looking down with smug satisfaction at the chaos below her, looks up, unconcerned. "So it's over, then?"

"'Over'?" Hanna repeats, folding her arms and glaring at her former friend. "They're dead, Mona. Aria, Spencer, Emily, they're all dead. Is that what you wanted?"

Mona's silky smile is answer enough.

"That is what you wanted," Hanna says, her eyes wide and her heart racing. "You wanted to kill them."

"Now you see why I couldn't tell you the whole plan," Mona says calmly. "You'd have never gone along with it if I had."

"Of course I wouldn't!" Hanna leans against the railing too, suddenly finding it hard to stand. "I would never have helped you _murder_ my friends. You said you were just going to scare them!"

"And I did scare them." In the darkness, Mona's eyes glow, and for a split second Hanna has the thought that they're reflecting hellfire. "You could even say I scared them to death."

"That's not funny," Hanna shouts, and suddenly her emotions get the better of her. She reaches out and shoves Mona, as hard as she can.

Mona stumbles, shocked, but then draws herself up to her full height, silently reminding Hanna of her place in the pecking order. "You helped us," Mona reminds her. "If we go down, you go down with us. Are you prepared to do that?"

Although Hanna is still bristling, she lets the words sink in, lets herself remember the precariousness of her situation. "What are we supposed to do now?" she asks, knowing she's not going to be happy with any answer Mona gives her.

"We're going to clean up this mess," Mona responds, already walking back to the control room – the place where the security guards watched the cameras. That is, on nights when said security guards hadn't been anonymously paid off and sent away while a team of black-hooded teenagers killed three high school students.

Hanna starts to follow, but another shape appears from the shadows – an impressive feat, given the bright red coat this figure is sporting.

"Good job back there," Alison says, tossing her golden hair back and giving Hanna an appreciative smirk. "Those bitches never knew what hit them."

Biting her lip, Hanna says nothing. She flips her black hood up, reminding herself that she had to do this, reminding herself that this is the only way things could ever end. "Don't talk about them like that," Hanna mutters, half-hoping Alison won't hear.

But Alison does hear. "Oh, honey. You never needed them. We're your friends now."

Hanna shoots a look back at the lower level of the museum, where the bodies of her friends are. She wrestles with herself for a moment, almost following Alison and Mona to the control room, and then suddenly she snaps. "I can't do this anymore," she announces, her voice shaking. "I should never have let you talk me into this, and I'm not going to let it go any further."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" Mona snickers. "You'll go down for that too, remember, Hannakins."

"I don't care." Hanna sniffs, trying to be strong but feeling so weak she's amazed the others haven't kicked her out long before now. "I'm going to go to the police and tell them what we did."

Mona and Alison share a look, and Hanna knows what it means. They can't afford any liabilities, so they're going to get rid of her too. Without thinking, Hanna takes off. For once in her life she's not wearing heels, but that doesn't make this mad dash through the halls of the museum any easier. She runs blindly, the sound of footsteps behind her enough to keep her stumbling legs moving. After a few turns she realizes where she is, and starts deliberately trying to lose the others. If she can get out of here, she can –

She comes to a screeching halt, realizing that she's doubled back. There's a shout from behind her, and that's enough to startle her into action again. Her heart pumps frantically, her legs trip over each other, but she needs to put as much distance as she can between her and her pursuers. She's just about to turn and head down the stairs, aiming to ditch them on the lower level, when she loses her footing.

She stumbles, reaches wildly, overbalances. Mona and Alison reach the landing in time to see her tumble down the stairs, coming to a stop at the bottom with a heart-shaking crash. Not breathing, deathly still. They share a look, but neither of them say anything.

The museum is silent as the grave.

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**One more to go. See you there.**


	6. Epilogue

**Um. So when I left off last year I didn't mean to have such a long gap, but due to a combination of lack of reader interest and me managing to lose the last chapter, it ended up taking a long time to update. So yeah, sorry to anyone who may still actually be reading this. Anyway. Here you go.**

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The silence stretches on, but eventually Mona breaks it. "We should start cleaning up," she says, trying to still her heart. She had meant to kill the others, had _wanted_ to kill the others, but Hanna was different. Hanna was _supposed_ to be different.

"Yeah," Alison says, seemingly unconcerned. "Who do you want to start with?"

"I…" Mona trails off, trying to find an excuse not to deal with Hanna's body. The others she can handle, but not her best friend.

"I'll take care of Hanna," Alison offers. "Do you want to start with Aria?"

Mona nods, slipping back into the shadows. She takes the other set of stairs so she doesn't have to look at Hanna, and in a few minutes she ends up at the laser room. Everything is exactly as it's supposed to be – except for one crucial fact.

"Where the _hell_ is the body?" Mona says aloud, to herself because there's no one else here. There's nothing here – no bloodstains, no body, no sign that anyone has ever been here. Except, she realizes, for a small slip of paper.

Suddenly nervous, she bends down and picks it up. At first it seems blank, but she flips it over and sees a message scrawled across it. **Nice try, bitches. But it's not that easy.**

The note flutters from her hand as she looks around, on alert at once. Someone moved the body before they could get to it. Someone on the A-Team, higher up than her? Higher up than Ali? Or someone else entirely?

She picks up the note, scrunches it up, and tucks it into her pocket. Alison has screwed her over. That's the most logical explanation. Mona's never really trusted Ali, but working with her was the best way to get back at the girls. Now it seems like Mona's going to be caught in the crossfire of whatever war Ali had with the girls; maybe Ali's plan had been to frame Mona all along. And like a fool she'd let her.

Her heart rate increasing with every step, Mona wends her way through the halls, searching for – well, anyone. She comes across the light exhibition, where she herself had killed Spencer – her one academic rival, the person she had most admired, the girl who had always had the potential but never the guts to stand up to Ali.

Yet that room too is empty. A small pool of dried blood is the only indication that anything has even happened here. There's no sign of the body, even though Mona saw it less than ten minutes ago. After a quick survey of the room and surrounds Mona hurries on to her next destination. The flight simulator is empty, and there's no one there. Ali is also nowhere to be seen, which makes Mona anxious.

This had seemed like a good idea at the time, a quick – and fun – way to get rid of the thorns in their sides, the people who could have turned them in for everything they've done. But now the implications are sinking in. What if someone else was here? What if they moved the bodies because – why? Why would anyone do that?

Still lost in her thoughts, Mona hardly notices as someone comes up behind her.

"They're gone."

Turning around, Mona sees Alison, her red hood pulled over her face, but not quite covering her scowl. "What do you mean?"

"The bodies," Alison says. "They're all gone. Did you move them?"

"I couldn't have moved them," Mona points out. "We were dealing with Hanna, remember?"

Even as she says it, Mona realizes the flaw in her theory. _They_ were dealing with Hanna. Alison couldn't have moved the bodies either. So has someone else been pulling the strings? Or have they swooped in at the last minute to mess everything up?

"What the hell is going on?" Alison bursts out, clenching her fists. "Bodies don't just get up and walk away."

"Sometimes they do," says a voice from the shadows. "You know that better than anyone, don't you, Alison?"

Both girls whirl around, trying to see who spoke, and suddenly Mona is surrounded by ghosts. Spencer, Aria, Emily, and Hanna have appeared from the shadows, looking like they've just risen from the grave. Mona's eyes widen as she takes in the sight of them, but her heart sinks as she realizes she's been tricked. "What is this?" she asks, feeling cheated. She was the one behind this plan, but it seems like someone else was planning too.

"I'll let Hanna explain," Spencer says, glancing at her friend. "It was her plan, after all."

Mona turns to her. "Hanna?"

The blonde haired girl steps forward, holding something. With a start, Mona realizes what it is – a mannequin, dressed to look like Hanna. The pieces begin to fall into place, but Mona waits silently while Hanna explains. "I told the others about your plan," Hanna says, which isn't surprising. Hanna had always been the wildcard of the team. "I knew you didn't just want to shake them up. I knew you wanted to kill them."

"And obviously she didn't want that to happen," Aria says, picking up the story. Aside from a slight rasping in her voice, she seems fine. Doesn't anyone stay dead when you kill them? "So we came up with a little plan of her own."

"It wasn't that hard," Emily says, rubbing her throat slightly like it's hurting her, but she seems more angry than scared. "We didn't know exactly how you were going to do it, so we were prepared."

"See this?" Spencer asks, stepping forward so that enough light flows onto her to show what she's pointing at. Her hair is matted, thick with something that looks like blood. But she's holding up a small, empty packet of plastic. "Fake blood capsule. We each had one, just in case. A little sleight of hand and it's pretty convincing, don't you think?"

"I got to Aria just in time," Hanna says, and Mona thinks that they've even rehearsed this, they're that synchronous with their storytelling. "I pulled her out, pretended she was dead, and then waited for her to wake up. I checked out the gas you used – non fatal if you limit the exposure."

"So I'm going to be just fine." Aria grins, triumphant. "Although I can't say the same for you."

Before Mona can interrupt, Emily takes over.

"My part was slightly harder – and more painful." She grimaces slightly as she goes on. "But all I had to do was hold my breath for long enough. I learned that from you, by the way," she says with a pointed look at Ali.

"And this," Hanna says, hefting up the mannequin to show it off, "pretty much explains itself. I just had to make sure I was at the right angle, so you'd see this falling and be so distracted by it that you wouldn't notice me hiding near in the janitor's closet."

The story seems to be over, so once Mona finishes sorting the pieces through in her head, she speaks. "So that's it then. You tricked us?"

"Looks like," Spencer says with a shrug and a slightly smug smile.

Although Mona hates to admit it, the girls may have won. She feels Alison tense beside her, but there's nothing either of them can do.

"I have this recording, you know," Hanna says, pulling her phone out of her pocket and twirling it between her fingers. "About how you planned to kill the girls. This would be interesting to Rosewood PD, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you want, Hanna?" Alison says tiredly, speaking for the first time. "We know all your secrets, and apparently you know ours. So what are you girls up to? What do you think you can do with that information? Give it to the police and we all go down."

"Oh, we're aware of that," Aria says smoothly. "Which is why we're going to offer you a deal. Stand down, disband the A-Team, and we'll call it a draw."

"You stop tormenting us, we don't turn you in," Emily says flatly. "Sound fair?"

Mona shares a look with Alison. It's not ideal, but it might be the best they're going to get. Reluctantly, Alison dips her head. Mona turns back to the girls. "Your terms are acceptable," she says. "We all walk out of here, go our separate ways."

"And we never see _you_ again," Spencer adds to Alison, who ducks her head.

"Fine." Alison's eyes skim over the four girls, land for a second on Mona, and then she stalks out. Everyone in the room knows they're not going to see her again, ever.

Mona hesitates for a second, and then leaves as well. As she does so she can hear sounds of celebration erupt from the room. The girls have won this round, but nobody won the war. She's ready to lay down her weapons and call it a truce, even though she knows it won't change anything. She'll still be alone, second best, last choice, stuck on the outside.

But as she walks out of the museum, no blood on her hands and no deaths to her name, she smiles. Maybe she's okay with that.

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**Annd, now we're done. See you around!**


End file.
